by Jillian Hart
He gritted he teeth, a growl tearing through him, and rolled away. The mare reared, churning the ground where his head had been.
“Look what I found, boys.” Milt Owen seemed as tall as the sky with the old breech-loading Henry rifle braced in both hands.
Pointed at Gage’s heart.
He acted without thinking. Grabbed the nose of the rifle and yanked it up and around. Almost had it.
Out of nowhere a rifle jammed against his chest and drove him into the ground.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Gatlin.” A boot caught him beneath the jaw.
Gage’s head slammed into the ground. Stars flashed behind his eyes. He blinked, realizing there were four men towering over him. Guns gleamed darkly. His entire shirt was wet with blood.
“Who’s the loser now?” The butt of Milt’s rifle swung through the air and slammed into the side of Gage’s face. Pain exploded in his jaw.
“Gonna call the sheriff? Looks like you can’t get up. Too bad. I’ve got the upper hand now, boy. Now you’ll know what it feels like when someone pushes you around.”
Gage didn’t see the blow coming to his midsection, and the pain left him sick and dizzy. “I’m not your problem, Owens. You stole from me. I took back what was mine. Can’t blame a man for that.”
“Sure I can.” Milt’s boot slammed into Gage’s head. “I needed them cattle. My family needed food on the table. I lost everything. Don’t see why you can’t join me.”
Come on, Gatlin, you can get out of this. He thought of Lucy asleep in her bed. Of the grassfire speeding toward the house.
That was all the strength he needed. Gage knocked the Henry off his chest, felt the burn of smoke and fire as it went off. He lunged at Milt’s knees, bringing him down with a heavy thud. The gun went flying as bullets fired, hitting the dirt around him. Milt’s fist connected to his chest. Blood gushed from Gage’s chest and he sputtered, fighting for breath.
“Gage!” It was Juan. Guns blazing, he appeared out of the thick smoke. He hit his target and one of Milt’s hired men slumped to the ground.
Milt dove for cover, leaving Gage in the open. Bullets peppered the dirt all around him. He spotted a boulder, in the shelter of the creek bank, and ran for it. He dropped to his knees, safe from the gunfire. Trouble was, he had no gun.
“I sent my father to get Lucy out of the house.” Juan slipped around the other side of the rock. Breathing hard. Bleeding harder. “I got shot but good. Those bastards crept through the grass. I didn’t see ’em until it was too late. We’re three against two.”
“Don’t like those odds, but I’ve had worse.”
“Think we’ll get out of this?” Juan emptied the bullets from his belt and handed over his revolver. “Needs loading. My hand’s shaking too damn hard to do it.”
“You’re hurt pretty bad.” Coughing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and tied it around his face.
“I’ve still got some fight in me.” Juan steadied the rifle on the boulder and sighted carefully. “They’re taking time to surround us.” He squeezed the trigger, the gun fired, and a bullet thudded into human flesh. “Winged him. Down, but not dead.”
Gage squeezed off a shot. Knocked Milt’s hat off his head and, judging by the cry of pain, skimmed his skull. “Guess Milt jumped the lookout.”
“Wally took a bullet wound to the shoulder. Pretty bad, but he’s going to make it. Seems Milt and his friends figured to steal some of your best breeding mares. They were a little short on cash.” Juan stopped to squeeze off a couple shots. “Damn it. Missed. They started the fire to distract us when we had them surrounded.”
“Tried to get away, did they?” Looked like it just might work. Gage caught sight of the wall of quick-moving flames that lashed at the sky. Tall now. Feasting greedily on the dead grasses, driven by the wind. Moving faster than a man could run. Moving directly toward them.
Bullets hammered into the creek bank two feet from his head. Fragments of clay and granite dove into his skin, and he shielded his face with one arm. Spotted a flash of movement against the orange wall of flames and sited it. Pulled the trigger. One of the hired men dropped to the ground. Didn’t move.
“Two against two. Better odds.” Gage tried to get a better view, but gunfire forced him back. “Take a look and see if they’ve gotten around us on your side. Hate to have one of those bastards shoot us in the back. Juan?”
Juan lay slumped against the boulder. “I’m bleeding bad, Gage. I can’t hold the gun.”
Chunks of the creek bank were breaking apart, exposing them more with each section that gave way under the gunfire.
It was only a matter of time before they could be taken from the side or behind.
“Hold on, buddy. We’ll see if I can get us out of this.” Gage took the Winchester.
He was ready. He could do this. With the rifle in one hand, the Peacemaker in the other, stumbled from behind the rock, already shooting. Hit Milt square in the chest. Owens tumbled forward, gun spitting fire.
Cold streaks shot through Gage’s leg and chest. Bullets that knocked him backward. He stumbled, fighting for his balance. Where was the last gunman? Bullets peppered Gage from the side—there, heading for the creek and escape.
Fiery columns of flame hurled between them and Gage couldn’t see anything but the fire approaching so fast, he couldn’t get a clear shot.
It didn’t matter. His knees were buckling. He tasted blood as the ground rose up to meet him. Lying there, he knew he thought about dying. About Sarah.
Sarah’s kiss. Sarah’s smile. Sarah’s touch in the night.
He loved Sarah with all the depth of his being. And if he died here, she would never know it.
Blood choked him as he stumbled to his knees. Caught Juan by the arm and crawled. Red embers rained down on him. His forearms blistered from the heat. It seemed like an eternity before he tumbled into the cool waters of the creek. Fire exploded behind him.
Gage pulled Juan onto the far bank and collapsed.
Chapter Sixteen
The town hadn’t changed during the week she’d been away. So many things had changed in her life, that it seemed surprising. As if she could forget the past few weeks, and her memory could take her back to Gage. To the happy times she’d spent with him.
But it was too late, and she knew it as she walked through the door and into the doctor’s office.
“Sarah.” He looked up from his book and pushed back his spectacles. “I was just wondering about you. Heard you were out of town.”
“I was looking for a new place to live. I need a change from Montana,” she explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but admitting the truth would hurt so much. She didn’t want any reminders of Gage Gatlin. She had to move on.
“So, you’ll be leaving us?”
“I’m not sure to where, yet, but my husband’s cousin lives in Idaho Territory and owns a dress shop. I might have a part-time job with her. I’m still deciding. I’m here because I want to reassure you that I intend to continue making payments on Ella’s bill.”
“That’s not necessary.” He snapped his thick medical text closed. “Mr. Gatlin paid your account in full.”
“He what?” She had to have misunderstood. “That was a lot of money. You mean he just walked in here and paid it?”
“Yep. You don’t owe me a cent.” The doctor took off his glasses and folded them. “Since you just came back to town, you might not have heard. There was a gunfight between Gage and your uncle. Milt’s dead. Gage was hurt.”
“How bad?”
“He’s on his feet and back at the ranch. That foreman of his took a bad gunshot wound, but he’s home, too.” The doctor opened the door for her. “Thought maybe you should know. Seeing as how you nearly married the man.”
She thanked the doctor. Halfway down the boardwalk she realized she was walking the wrong way. Not toward the boarding house, where Ella was waiting with Mrs. Flannery. Where she intended to start packing their b
elongings. But toward Gage’s ranch.
It was finished between them. He didn’t love her, she’d given back his ring and was planning a new future without him.
So why was she walking so fast? Why was Gage still trying to make her life better? He didn’t have the right.
Gage tilted his hat to keep the sinking afternoon sun from his face. His shoulder screamed in protest. Working all day hadn’t done his wounds any favors, but he wasn’t about to sit around when there was rebuilding to do.
Besides, keeping busy kept him from thinking about Sarah. The woman he’d lost.
When he’d regained consciousness in the doctor’s clinic, Gage had asked for her. Was told she’d left town the day before. Gone, just like that. When he was up and walking, he’d tried to hunt down Mary Flannery, but she had gone to Butte to visit her new grandbaby.
He’d had his chance and he’d blown it. He had no one to blame but himself. He sunk the shovel deep into the blackened earth and leaned on the handle.
He’d lost his outbuildings, his first hay crop, his well, his orchard, the new bunkhouse and the house in the fire. He’d lost all those things, but none of it compared to losing Sarah.
The bay filly nosed him, looking for more sugar. He rubbed her nose and was grateful he had good men working for him. And good neighbors. While he’d been laid up, others had rounded up his animals and corralled them. His hired men had started rebuilding fences and outbuildings. The house was next.
“Hey, Gatlin.” Juan called out from his chair in the shade. “Looks like another one of those town ladies bringing you a cake or something.”
“Great.” The minute he’d been released from the doctor’s care, the baskets and baking had started up again. It wasn’t because of the fire or his injury. He hadn’t married Sarah Redding, and was available again.
Not that he could ever marry anyone else.
He jammed his shovel into the earth, leaving it standing upright as he prepared to politely discourage yet another husband-hunting lady without hurting her feelings.
This time there was no fancy surrey rattling up his driveway. Only a slender woman walking along the dusty lane, her face shaded by a plain sunbonnet.
Sarah. She was too far away to see clearly, but he knew her in an instant. Was he dreaming? He blinked and she was still there, the wind shaping her calico dress around her soft, womanly curves. Curves he loved so well.
“The doc said you were injured. I’m glad you’re up and around.” She breezed to a halt in front of him, reserved, turning to study the prairie, as if that was what she had come for. “I’m relieved to see that you’re all right.”
“As right as rain.”
Still, she refused to look at him. “You must have lost nearly everything.”
“The livestock made it all right. Lucy rescued her new rag doll and the kittens from the barn. No lives were lost. We have what matters most, so I call that lucky.”
“I’m glad Lucy is all right. Is she here?”
“She’s in town at a birthday party.”
“Oh. I wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving tomorrow morning and I—” Then she saw the bruise beneath the brim of his hat, purple-red and as big as her fist. “So, you are hurt and you’re just not admitting it. Look at that bruise.”
“I’ll be fine, Sarah. I’m the toughest horseman this side of the Rockies, remember?”
“I knew you were going to say that.” It was like old times, she realized. She would laugh and Gage would take her into his arms and they’d be together. It was magic, this connection between them, and standing in his presence was all it took to make her hope for what could never be.
It was time to go, before she decided she’d take him any way she could have him. That his mutual regard was ten times more wonderful than another man’s love.
But he didn’t seem to want her.
“There’s one more thing, Gage. I understand you paid Ella’s medical bills.”
“Guilty as charged. I wanted to help.”
“I know, and it’s generous of you. You’re a generous man, and I’ll always love you for it. But the last thing I want from you is money.” She wanted what could not be. “I’m going to pay back every cent, and I need you to agree. My debts aren’t your responsibility or your duty. I never want to be any man’s duty.”
“You handle the debt the way you want, Sarah. I didn’t mean any harm.”
Did he have to be so kind? It took all her willpower to turn away. “Goodbye, Gage.”
“’Bye, Sarah.”
She moved one foot forward. Then another. She could find the strength to walk away and leave him behind.
If only her other foot would move. It seemed glued to the earth and she couldn’t lift it.
Maybe it wasn’t her foot that wouldn’t let her leave.
“Sarah. Before you go, I want to show you something.” Gage held out his hand, palm up, a quiet invitation. “There’s one thing that survived the fire, and I want you to see it.”
She remembered all the times she’d placed her hand in his, skin to skin, palm to palm, his fingers twining through hers. If she touched him, then it would all come back. The way he’d brought love to her life. And what she would give up if she stayed.
She let him take her hand. He led her down the road and across the blackened yard where Ella and Lucy had once played. Across the steps where she’d sat in the evenings with Gage. To the blackened ashes that used to be the parlor, where the chimney towered above the ruins, blackened but not destroyed.
Gage released her hand and pulled out a corner brick to reveal a hollow. She couldn’t see what was there, for the setting sun made the light thin and the shadows deep, but she knew.
“Your wedding ring.” Gage held the gold band between two fingers, the diamonds sparkling like the joy he felt every time he looked at her. “This alone survived.”
She couldn’t believe it. The ring sparkled, rare and true, unharmed.
“I love you, Sarah Redding.”
“You said you don’t believe in love.”
“I’m a poor, misguided, ignorant man, and I was wrong.”
“That’s absolutely true and I’m glad you realize it.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “So now you believe love exists?”
“Absolutely, one hundred percent certain.” He slid the ring onto her finger. “I’ve come to realize that I’ve never known love before you. Since I’m an ignorant, misguided fellow, I had the right to be scared.”
“A big, tough lawman like you?”
She came into his arms soft as a breeze, and his love for her doubled as she rested her cheek against his chest. She felt so precious in his arms, and he was going to cherish her for the rest of his life. This woman who’d melted his heart of stone with her romantic love and dreams of forever.
And this would last forever, he knew. Because what mattered in this world could never be destroyed. Like brick and mortar, that’s how strong their love was and would always be.
“Look at the sunset.” Sarah pulled away from him, her skirts swirling around her slim ankles as she faced the west, where brilliant golds and purples lit the grand peaks of the Rocky Mountains. “I made a wish once, standing with you in the field.”
“I remember.” He joined her, feeling the changing light on his face, feeling the world transform around him. “What did you wish for?”
“That you would love me.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, as if she were debating something important. “You told me once that you would say the words I wanted to hear, if that’s what it took for me to marry you. Is that what you’re doing? Because if it is, I can’t be your wife. I can’t be convenient and useful. I want to be cherished, just once. I want—”
He covered her mouth with his in a caress of lips and tongue. A tender, possessive kiss that made her toes curls and desire twist deep inside.
“This is no convenient kiss, is it?” He kissed her again, sucking her lip between his in a slow, sensual glide
.
“It doesn’t feel like one, no.”
He folded her against him so they were breast to chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. So she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal against her stomach. “Does this feel like a useful hug to you? Or one that a man would give to the woman he cherishes?”
“You cherish me?” It was too much to hope for, this happiness, this gift he was giving her.
“You are my first star of the night, Sarah, and my last star in the morning. All my hopes and all my dreams are right here. In what I feel for you. And if you don’t believe me, look.”
The first star of the night. It glimmered pure and rare against the darkness.
“As long as that star burns, so will my love for you.” His promise touched her deep in her heart. “Marry me, Sarah.”
“For love?”
“For love.”
How could she ask for more? The ring on her finger, the affection in Gage’s touch as he pulled her close. Sarah knew she would love him for the rest of her life. “Look, Gage. The second star of the night. For as long as that star burns, I will love you.”
Sarah felt treasured as he held her close and led her through the ruins and down into the field, where the grass was fresh and green. Where wild roses scented the air. She welcomed her friend, her lover and her soon-to-be husband into her arms. They made love as the stars came out, one by one, and smiled down on them.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8384-2
MONTANA LEGEND
Copyright © 2002 by Jill Strickler
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.